A mother's love

Queen Beatrix POV

I was pulled back with my thoughts when the door opened. There stood in all its glory - His majesty, Zachary Rainier Wright, my husband, the king of this kingdom, and now the father of my child.

The almighty sure favored this demon incarnate. The moment Zachary walked inside the room, his stature commanded respect, but more so - attention. I stared at those green eyes that seemed to remind me why I fell in love with him in the first place. Those eyes that once swirled with emotions, now they are empty and void. Sure, they are pretty to look at, but that's it - nothing more, nothing less. His nose is upright and complements his other features well. His lips, oh! I've always dreamt of kissing them. Now, when I see those lips, all I can think of are the vile words that come out of that mouth. From his high cheekbones, sharp jawline up to his well-sculpted body, any woman would love to have him as their husband. I once thought so too - not until I got married to him. In our six years of marriage, it felt as though I had gone to hell and back.

The irony, I am the Queen of one of the richest kingdoms in this whole empire. I own tons of beautiful dresses made from the highest quality of delicate silk and have been embroidered and sewn by famous modistes sourced from across the empire. My closet is adorned with precious jewels and stones and variety of shoes and accessories. Rows and rows of servants at my disposal. Not to mention the vast treasury under my name filled with enough gold to feed the kingdom for hundreds of years. I am living the life, status, and privilege that any noble would envy. Even so, I feel as if I am worse than a beggar. For years I have begged and groveled at the feet of my husband. For years I have prided myself as an obedient and dutiful wife and queen. Yet he wouldn't even spare me a glance, as if I am not worthy of even his gaze. No amount of jewel and gold can fill the void my husband has left in my heart. I learned that no matter what I do, my husband would never see me as the woman who have dedicated herself to him in the name of love. All he saw was the woman who took away his freedom and his chance of having a happy marriage.

Had this moment happened six years ago, I would have welcomed him with enthusiasm - with a bright smile as I showed him our child. Seeing him now, all I want to do is stick that sword he's holding down his throat. He will not touch my daughter. I will not allow it even if it kills me.

Everyone bowed, except for me. I have lost all respect I had for my husband from the moment he had violated me and acted as if I was not a victim myself but instead, I was treated as the criminal. He stared at me as I stared back at him. I refused to back down. I am not fighting just for myself - I have a child now.

"Beatrix." He spoke, his voice laced with authority.

"Zachary." I greeted him back - at least I am trying to act civil around him. While he was playing king with his council, I had half my body in the grave trying to birth our daughter.

Not minding me calling his name informally, as he was used to it by now, his gaze shifted to the little bundle in my arms. I moved my body so he wouldn't see her face. He raised his eyebrows at my actions.

"It's either you give it to me... voluntarily, or I'll take it by force. And I promise you I won't be so gentle with the latter." There is a hint of threat in his voice. I saw him raise his hand to signal Bernard, his dog. Bernard would do anything for his master. He'd slit his own throat if ordered. I've known Bernard longer than I've known Zachary; he was like a brother to me. I can't help but lowly chuckle as Bernard start to remove his sword form the hilt placed beside his hips. No hesitation can be seen from his eyes. He would kill me right then and there; childhood friendship be damned. It amuses me that someone could be this loyal my husband when he himself doesn't know of such word.

Before they could even do anything, I tried to stand up. The maids helped me sit upright and had me lean on the headboard before I beaconed my husband to step closer. Carefully, I placed my daughter in his arms.

As soon as I placed Amara to her father's arm. My daughter who was sleeping a moment ago slowly open her eyes. I can tell he was studying her: no one can claim that she was not his child for they greatly resembled each other. Amara resembled his father more than me, from his raven hair down, his pale complexion up to his facial features, she was her father's carbon copy. The only thing she got from me was the distinct color of her eyes. The child in his arms cooed and lightly rubbed her eyes before staring at him. Only the females of my family held eyes the color of amethyst. He knew what he was holding was a princess and not a prince. My innocent daughter smiled at his father. She gave him a toothless grin and I watched as Zachary stood frozen in his place.

I saw him grip the child tightly in his arms. I wanted to take her away but was afraid that he would hurt her more if I did something he didn't like. He stared at her as if memorizing what his child looks. I looked at his dark green eyes, and still, it held no emotion in them. I expected him to lash out, to feel disgusted at the sight of his daughter as it was not a prince like he had hoped. But no, he was quietly observing the dainty child in his hand. At this point, I was even more scared. I have no idea what was running inside his head.

He raised his head and looked at me, breaking the trance I was in a moment ago. He threw a gaze towards me and smirked. It irked me. What exactly is he planning to do?

"You know Beatrix... it fascinates me" He continued to talk as he let our daughter hold his thumb. I do not see hostility in his eyes for our daughter, but I do not see fondness as well. Nothing, what was supposed to be the most precious moment of our child's life and his eyes held nothing. His lack of expression scared me. If he had acted viscous, I would at least have the reason to retaliate and run away with my daughter. But he was just standing there, staring at the dainty child in his arms, occasionally caressing her tiny face with a serious expression on his face. Is it wrong for me to hope that he would learn to love our daughter?

"You had one job, funny enough... only you can fulfill it. It fascinates me how you could fail so miserably when your only duty as Queen is to produce an heir for the throne." He eyed me once again, mocking me for the failure that I am. I had always told him to impregnate the women he beds so he can finally sire an heir. It was not my fault that he didn't do so. I have long lost compassion for my husband's loyalty to our marriage. How hypocritical of him to bed every woman who is willing and yet refuse to sire an heir with them when he wouldn't even come to my chamber sober.

He handed the child to Bernard before telling me my verdict. I knew that this was coming. I readied myself of all the possible outcomes had I not reached their expectations. No matter how prepared I was for this moment, I still can't help but feel my heartbreak once more as I know I would be parting from my daughter.

I wish to be part of every milestone in her life. Her first word, her first step, for her to call me mother, to see her grow and become the exceptional lady I know she will grow up to become. All of those are wishful thinking. I knew from the start I was bound to die lonely and broken. I hope my daughter will not end up with the same fate as me.

" Beatrix Cyrille Noix Wright, I - Zachary Rainier Wright, King of the kingdom of Fraise, hereby exile you to the barren land of the North where you will live as a commoner. You are to be stripped from your title as Queen and shall be banished for long as you shall live."

"Do with me what you will, but I will never forgive you if something happens to my daughter. You of all people should know what I am capable of." I know that my purple eyes shone with every word that I spoke, each word heavy with threat. He knows this is more than just a warning.

He gave me a mocking laugh as he smiled bitterly. " Of course, my love, do you not trust me with our daughter? She might not be a prince, but she is still the heir, and she will be named as such. Amara Millicent Wright, Crown Princess and the heir to the throne of the Kingdome of Fraise."

After convincing the king for Amara to stay the night in my chambers as I would be gone the next day, he finally agreed - as long as Bernard stayed guard outside my chamber.

I continued to hold my daughter close as this would be the last time, I would be able to see her. She is so beautiful, so delicate. I know that she will reach a certain age where suitors would line up to have her hand. I also know that there will come a time where she would try and seek love for herself.

Love, the very same thing that led me to my demise. I cannot have my daughter suffer the same fate I had to suffer. I fell in love with her father and look where it had gotten me.

I took the vial resting beside me. It was the deepest color of blue with silver specks on it. If I had only taken this when my mother told me to, I would have saved myself from all this agony.

" Do not fret, my child, I might not be here when you grow up, but I will protect you" I held her face as I kissed the top of Amara's hair.

The moment I opened the vial with a blue liquid in my hand, the smell of roses started to fill the room. I started chanting the spell I memorized since I learned how to talk but never got to use, not until now. After the enchantment, I stared at my daughter. With those innocent eyes looking right back at me, I knew this was the right thing to do.

"Human emotions are selfish - it is hard to control. It can consume you, and you won't even know until it's too late. And among these emotions, love is the worst of them all..."

I drew the vial closer to her lips and made her drink the potion. As quickly as she finished the vial, I fed her milk to help soothe its awful taste as I lulled her to sleep. This potion will help you build the walls you need to protect yourself.

"You will not feel love or any emotion that is dangerous to your heart. They cannot hurt someone who feels nothing. You don't have to trust them, my child. You only need yourself" Amara started to drift to sleep, and before she closed her purple eyes, the orbs that once shone and sparkled now dimmed. Like her father's, it is now void. Like a never-ending abyss of nothing.

This gift is not a curse, this is a blessing.

You will thank me when you are older.